America's Mission
by I'mTheHero33
Summary: America is asked by his boss to go on a mission to find the special something to cure illness in America. Britain and France come along and things get juicy...
1. Chapter 1

"Alright Alfred. I'm sending you on a mission! I need you to go to the alps." His boss says sternly.

"Yes sir, but why would I go up in the mountains? It's really freaking cold up there!" America complains. His boss ignores him.

"I have found out that there is a special… item up in a secret cave. It will cure certain illnesses that have plagued your country. I need you to go and find it."

"Really? Dude that sounds fun! I'll be the totally awesome hero!"

"Please Alfred, stay focused. This is an important mission and must not be taken lightly." With this comment, America slides down in his squishy office chair he had been told to sit in.

"Sure sir." America says, "But what exactly am I looking for?" he asks, cocking his head.

"I'm sure you'll know it when you see it. Just hurry and get going. Here's a map on how to get there. You go in this cave here, all the way at the end of the tunnel you'll find it."

"Ok, well I'll get going then." America's enthusiasm may have been crush a bit by how stern his boss was acting, but he was still very much excited to go on this adventure. The first thing he does is invite some friends to come along.

Japan said he was too busy to come, and so did China. He didn't dare call Russia or Germany, they're really creepy. He finally reached France who said he'd go, but he wanted Britain to come also. So America called Britain and finally convinced him to come too.

The trio met at America's airplane warehouse.

"So, what exactly are we looking for?" Britain asks as the three walk towards America's "hero" two-seater plane.

"Well. My boss said we'll know it when we see it!" America says, adding a horrendous laugh to the end of his sentence.

"And also, this is a two-seater plane." France examines the plane. He then slides his finger down the side of the picture of a painted American flag on the side.

"Dude, there's enough room!" America exclaims then adds, "Don't touch my plane!" France immediately removes his hand. "Also, he said it sticks out like a sore thumb so it shouldn't be that hard to find." Britain and France both sigh.

"How are we going to find it? Aren't there lots of other caves up there?" Britain asks.

"No more questions yo! Let's get going. Come on Tony." He calls over his alien friend and France and Britain gasp again.

"America, were not going to be able to fit in that little plane. And where is Tony sitting?"

"Here, I'll show you!" America grabs both their hands and fling them through the back door of the plane and into cockpit, while Tony and him settle in the front seats. Tony then did the honors of turning on all the millions of switches that started the plane.

Britain was muffling in the back because France had fallen on top of him. He pushes him off with a 'humph' and scoots to the other side of the seat. "Wanker!" he says grumpily.

"What'd I do?" France says pathetically. Britain grumbles.

"What do you mean, you git! You just fell on me and it bloody hurt!"

"Well sorry you're always in the way!"

"Hey dudes can you stop arguing! I'm trying to fly a plane here! And you're bugging Tony." America says to them. "Unless you want to fly for me, would that shut you guys up?"

"No that's ok America. We'll be quiet." Britain says, and then whispers angrily at France, "Stupid Frog face." At that same instant France whispers, "Black sheep!"

"What'd you call me?" Britain yells.

"Nothing." France purrs. After that, silence enveloped the entire plane for just a moment.

"You guys don't have to be that quiet." America just hears grumbles in the backseat. "Oh, I know! I'll sing a song. What song do you think Tony?"

France and Britain both blurt, "No that's ok America!"

"You guys are party poopers." Then all was silent again, except this time it wasn't America to break the silence.

"I don't want to be mad at you forever so… I'm sorry I fell on you and called you a black sheep." France says.

"So that's what you called me!" he puffs. "And, try and refrain from falling on people from now on. Especially me."

"No promises." France says adding one of his famous laughs at the end, making Britain look out the tiny cockpit window to hide the fact that was blushing.

"That's better guys!" America exclaims, turning around and glancing at the two.

After a while of silence, a lot longer than last, America looks in the back to find a rather cute scene. The drone of the plane had made the two fall asleep. But, it wasn't that they had fallen asleep that was cute to America, it was _how_.

France had fallen asleep laying sideways, his head resting up against the window. Britain had fallen over in his sleep, so his head was in France's lap. The two were snoring; America cracked up.

He tried his best not to, but soon he was laughing loudly, stirring France out of his sleep.

"Huh. I fell asleep? I didn't even notice." He then noticed the brit that was still snoring on his lap. He took this precious time to play with Britain's hair. This movement woke him up. At first he didn't seem to notice his predicament because he was still half asleep.

"Where am I?" Britain asks.

"On my gorgeous lap. It's comfy, no?" France laughs. This snaps Britain out of his sleep completely. He screams and falls backwards.

"No! It isn't comfy or pretty or anything like that! Just stay away from me for the rest of the flight, ok? Can you do that you bloody frog?"

France whimpers like a puppy and turns his face away from Britain. Britain pouts and looks out his window.

At this moment the view below the plane was nothing but white with little dots of green. Britain tried his best to enjoy the scenery, but his mind was set on one thing. Or person for that matter: That stupid frog face.

It was weird because at that same moment franc was thinking of Britain. But that's not new because France thinks of him quite often.

America looks at the two pouting nations in the back and whispers, "So childish."

"That hypocrite." Britain thinks to himself, "I think he's the most childish out of all of us."

A couple minutes later, America yells, "Were coming in for a landing!" Suddenly the quartet slide into the entrance of the cave. Britain flies forward because of the rough landing and hits his head on the back of America's seat. Smart France had actually strapped himself in, so he had a nice landing.

Britain swears, "That was a lot slower than I thought it would be. And that really hurt!" He says, head spinning.

"Did it hurt as much as when I had my body pressed against yours at the beginning of the flight?" France says, lifting his hand to touch Britain's forehead where it had been hit against America's chair. Britain smacks it away, blushing.

"Shut up, pervert." He says as he opens the door to the plane of his side.

Once all four were out of the plane, they begin there epic journey into the cave. Or maybe not so epic…


	2. Chapter 2

"Come on guys, let's go in!" America grabs Tony's little hand and starts running with him into the cave. France and Britain slowly follow in after him.

The cave was fairly large, the opening ranging at least a few school buses wide. As the two venture inside they gasp at the scenery. The walls of the cave were clustered with sparkly crystals ranging from blues to reds to pearly whites. There were also long thin stalagmites hanging from the ceiling. The sky was clear (surprisingly) so the sunshine showed through the opening of the cave, making the crystals glisten.

"I think this cave's essence captures my beauty to- a-T, no?" France says in a sing song voice.

"Dream on you bloody narcissist!" Britain grumbles. As the two walk farther into the cave after America the light becomes dimmer and dimmer. They could just barely hear America's laughing in the distance.

"America!" Britain yells then whispers to France in frustration, "I'm going to find a flashlight, I can't see! I'm sure America brought one with him." He starts jogging back towards the plane, France following him. He didn't want to be left alone in the dark.

When they got to the airplane, Britain pulls open the trunk. It opens and out comes the suffocating aroma of hamburger. Britain coughs as he grabs a giant lumpy bag sitting on top of a pile of Americas crap labeled "An absurd pile of hamburgers". He opens it and finds at least one hundred burgers inside. Britain hands the bag to France with a disgusted look on his face and goes back to the trunk.

He rummaged through all of America's many comic books, super hero action figures, and stuffed animals. He finally found a tiny super hero flashlight where the light comes out of his plastic chest that was way too ripped to be a real human. Britain laughs and mumbles, "Stupid Americans and their silly heroes!"

"This will have to work." Britain says, testing the little flashlight which provided barely enough light. France wasn't very sure if it would work that well in the extreme darkness of the cave, but it would have to do.

France did the honors of throwing the giant bag of cheeseburgers back into the trunk. They then began their journey back into the cave again.

"America!" France calls out this time, but no answer. "That stupid American. He went and ditched us with his creepy little alien friend. Let's go find him."

They suddenly hear footsteps coming back towards them but stop really close to us.

"I see you America!" France says, breathing out.

"What are you talking about, you stupid frog?" Britain says confused, "America, where are you? I can hear your footsteps and France thinks he can see you but I can't." Britain was now frantically waving the tiny beam of the flashlight farther into the cave trying to spot America.

Maybe his eyes were just playing tricks on him? He looked up at France who was standing next to him (to close for his liking) and could still see him because of the light coming in from the entrance. But he could not even see even the glint of America's glasses.

They start hearing footsteps again but France follows him. Of course Britain could not see America so it confused him.

"Hey Britain dude, come check this out." America's obnoxious voice echoes through the cave. This really confuses Britain even more.

"Where are you America? I can hear you but I _really_ can't see you." Britain states again. France walks back over to him and shakes his head.

"You really can't see him?" France asks, pointing into the darkness where America (supposedly) was standing. America walks up to France's side.

"Dude, I'm right here. Can you feel this?" America walks over and touches Britain's arm. "Did you feel that?"

"What?" Britain says, looking in the direction he had heard him. Tricks are definitely being played on me Britain thinks to himself.

"So wait I can see him…" France started his sentence but it was cut off by Britain.

"What the hell? My arm is swelling up." Britain says wildly, grabbing his arm. Where America had touched him.

America laughs.

"What are you? What happened to my arm?" Britain asks shakily because his swollen arm had begun to sting. . France rushed over to Britain, noticing the pain in his voice.

America's laugh just became louder and more obnoxious. It then became lower and lower until it became a gurgle. His skin seemed to melt away, making France gag. It looked a bit weird to Britain because it seemed to appear out of nowhere. This monster scared the two nations mostly because it resembled America's alien friend Tony.

"What the heck is that _thing_?" Britain gasps, gripping his burning arm tighter.

"Are you ok Britain? You sound it pain." France says, glancing back and forth between Britain and the monster. France decides to nickname the hideous thing 'Steve'.

"What do you think? That thing touched me and now it feels like my arm's on fire, damnet!" France panics a bit as he grabs Britain's free arm and slings it over his shoulder.

"Unhand me! What do you think you're doing?" Britain asks and looks behind him at Steve who was getting closer to them and swallows.

"I'm helping you!" France says, glancing at the monster as he grabs around Britain's tiny waist.

"Fine!" Britain sputters, not enjoying the close contact with France but he did need help. With his burning arm, he didn't feel like arguing. They also need to get away from Steve.

As France starts dragging him, Britain's arm flares up with a new and violent blast of pain. Britain yells loudly and squeezes his eyes shut thinking a little pain doesn't hurt a strong man like me. He had gone through pretty awful pain before, but nothing as painful as this.

As France continues to help him along, the injured brit's moaning and cursing just gets louder. France tells him many times to be quieter and to help him by actually using his feet, but Britain just continues to whine.

France had finally dragged Britain back to the plane. He quickly opens the back door and threw him into the cockpit. The Steve was just coming out of the entrance when France scurried up inside the plane and slammed the door. He locked it behind him, which then locked all the doors so they were safe for the moment. France sank down into the seat saying "whew" but his attention was then turned to Britain. He examined where Steve had touched his arm.

It was a dark red, swelling up larger and larger every second as Britain got louder and louder. "France. Help me!" Britain chokes; his breaths raged and sweat running down his face. "It hurts. Damnit frog face!"

France climbed into the front, nearly kicking the moaning brit in the face. He opened the glove box and rummaged through it looking for an emergency kit. There were two.

He opened the first one to find band aids, gauze and defecting wipes. He grabbed a wipe and opened the other case. There was a note: "If Tony ever becomes a giant monster, give him this shot." France throws the paper in a random direction and ever so carefully pulls the long needle containing some sort of green liquid in it. This will have to work!

He climbed over the seat and plopped next to an incredibly red Britain. He grabs his cold hand and says quietly, "Try and calm down. This should help you." He rubs the defecting wipe on his swelled arm and quickly sticks the needle into him. As soon as he squeezed all of the disturbingly green liquid into Britain's arm, it slowly shrunk down to almost normal size. Also now it was just barely glowing red.

Britain sighs loudly, "Oh my goodness. I've never felt pain like that before." He says, wiping his forehead. "My arm barely hurts anymore. What'd you do?"

"I gave you a shot." France says, placing a smiley face band aid on his arm that he had found in the first aid kit. "Nothing much."

"Well, thanks,." Britain gives him a tight little thank you hug.

"You're welcome mon ami." France hugs him back. Britain quickly pulls away blushing a dark red.

Suddenly the two were aroused by a loud pounding. They both jump and look backwards. Steve was trying his best to rip open the airplane. Britain looks around for some sort of weapon under the seats while France looks around for something up front, but all he found was an empty bag of barbeque chips and a sock. He also looked in the glove box to find more of what they had found in the trunk.

"I found a baseball bat!" Britain exclaims bringing it up from beneath the chair.

"Here I'll take it. Try and find something else back here for back-up. I'm going to try and kill that thing!" France says bravely. He was about to open the door when Britain grabs his arm and pulls him back.

"What are you thinking you bloody fool? You'll get _yourself_ killed!" Britain yells but then an idea pops into his head. "Wait! We could always wait until it leaves."

"Because I'd rather just kill it now. If there's one, there could be more in there! It'd be better to kill this one now." France says.

"Fine! But, I'm coming with you."

"But you have nothing to defend yourself with!"

"Yes I do." Britain corrects him. "I have my nifty pocket knife."

"That isn't really all that good of a weapon, but if you want to come with me, I won't stop you." The look in France's eyes made Britain look away again.

France throws open the door, baseball bat in hand, Britain warily following behind him with his pocket knife.

At first they couldn't see Steve. He had also stopped shaking the plane also. The both circled the plane looking for Steve. He was gone.

"Where'd he go you think?" Britain asks, looking over at France for his opinion.

"I'm not sure." France says. "But it'll be back. For now, though, let's go find America. He could be in trouble."

Britain sighs, "Let's go find that git!"


	3. Chapter 3

"Up and down and up and down." Britain gurgles as he flings the light of the flashlight around the dark cave.

"Would you please quit doing that, I can't see where I'm going!" Britain hiccups and throws the flashlight in the air, just barely caching it as it plunged downward.

Britain has been acting a bit… strange for a while now. He has been singing and laughing at absolutely nothing at all. France was afraid that the needle he had given him earlier had made him loopy (I mean, it was meant to be given to an alien after all). It was also hard for him to keep a look out for Steve, having to deal with Britain.

Suddenly Britain trips and flings the (not so super) hero flashlight against the wall of the cave, causing it to break.

"I can't see! Am I blind?" Britain asks. "And where'd the flashlight go? It's not in my hand anymore." Britain spits.

"You're not blind and you broke our only source of light, connard!" France hisses, face palming.

"Shut it wanker! I need to go and find the light, I can't see!" Britain squawks, twirling into France.

"YOU BROKE IT! You can't use it anymore." France yells into his ear, causing him to flinch.

Britain laughs and lets out a long, "OOOOOHHHH!" Britain then searches around in the darkness for any part of France so he wouldn't lose him. He ended up grabbing hold of a large portion of France's golden locks.

"Don't touch my fabulous 'air! You'll mess it up." France shrieks, pulling at Britain's hand.

"Hey, it's ok! I gotcha!" Britain coos, hiccupping again.

"Let go of my hair! Angleterre!" France gasps as Britain pulls down, ripping a few hairs from his (gorgeous) scalp. A tear forms in France's eye as Britain gazes at the Frenchman, barely able to see him in the extreme darkness.

"You're a stupid frog." Britain giggles fruitily. He let's go of France's hair but instead of keeping to himself, he slaps him across the face.

"Why?" France mutters.

"Because a bloody man's 'otta do what a bloody man's 'otta do!" Britain slurs, totally oblivious to the random shit he's been yelling at ol' stupid cheesy-monkey.

France just ignores him. He grabs his hand and begins to drag the delirious brit farther into the cave. Britain uses his other hand and slaps France again.

"Would you please?" France smashes him in the face with a cold fist, causing Britain to fall over.

"Why'd you hit me?" Britain feebly asks the Frenchman towering over him. Britain raises his hand up and grabs hold of France's arm. "I didn't do anything to you!"

France ignores him again but thinks to himself you slapped my beautiful face. Britain raises his hand to his split lip, rubs the blood off onto his hand and wipes it on his pants.

France puts his hand in front of him as he gropes his way through the pitch black, the brit gripping onto his other arm. And he wasn't going to lie, other than his stinging face; the Frenchman enjoyed the close contact with Britain. He just wished he could his face. They've been in the cave a while and France was afraid of never seeing light again, therefore never seeing Britain's face. Damnet, where's a flashlight when you need one!

Then, he got an idea. Instead of seeing him, he could feel him. A hug. He pulls Britain into his arms, causing the ignorant brit to yell involuntarily. "Don't touch me! Froggy!" he complains, voice muffled by France's shirt.

The familiar feel of Britain aroused France. He had to use large restraints to keep himself from digging into Britain like a (sex) starved animal. He just had to try and savor this hug as much as humanly possible. If only Britain didn't smell so amazing…

France pulls himself away the bickering and flustered Britain despite himself. I mean he was Britain after all. The totally disgusting man that he hates, even despises. Even if that is true, he still somehow loves Britain with a great passion. Britain hiccups, for the tenth time, his face becoming very red (though either of them noticed because it was dark).

"Pervert." Britain says shakily to France as he warily grabs onto his arm again in the darkness. France laughs.

Suddenly, they both trip. Britain fell first then France on top of him. Figures. France was heavy on top of Britain, causing him to lose all of his breath. France lifted himself up just a little so Britain could breathe. That isn't much though.

Britain flails under France whose face was getting closer and closer to his every second. "Get off me, Francy-pants!" he yells.

"What?" This idiotic nickname given to him shocked him a bit, being used to the usual 'bloody frog' or something like that. Britain pushes up right at that moment, and somehow manages to push France off.

He quickly stands up. "Ha, stupid wanker!" Britain almost falls over again as he yells at the Frenchman who was still trying to get up. He giggles.

France decides to just ignore him _again_ and starts to look around for what tripped him. "Ah." France says as he picks up the culprit. A flashlight. What a coincidence!

He turns it on and to his surprise, works. The cave lights up with bright light. Not only did it work, it worked greatly. France looked down at it and noticed the familiar design of an American flag on it. This flashlight belonged to the one and only America. This made France worry, it would've made Britain worry but when France mentioned the situation to him he just asked, "Whose America?"

So if America's flashlight was there, that meant that America was there too. Somewhere. France grabs Britain's (rather warm) hand and begins to go farther into the now brighter cave. This relieved France a lot, he could see. That means… he could see Britain's face again.

He quickly turned around and looked at Britain's face. "You look so nice." France says but adding not as glorious as me though in his mind. And he sure was lying like hell to say that.

Britain's face had grown blue spots on it, circling his eyes and nose and mouth. Horror filled Britain's eyes as the (horridly obvious that something was up) smile played across France's twitching face.

Due to the fact that he was delirious, as Britain began to get scared, he forgot why. France tried to convince himself that this ludicrous image of Britain that stared at him was absolutely bogus. He blinks a couple times then looks at him again, the spots were gone. Good, it was just his imagination.

So the two continue their search for America again. Well mainly France's search because Britain currently didn't know who America was. France wasn't even sure if Britain knew who_ he_ was.

"I'm tired!" Britain whines, bumping into France, who was beginning to become slightly annoyed with the brit. France was tired too.

"Ferme ta gueule." France says.

"What was that?" Britain asks.

"Nothing." France says, smiling.

"Oh ok." Britain chuckles, forgetting about the little argument already. "Can you hold me?" he turns to look at France with big eyes.

"I think not." France puffs.

"I think yes!" Britain then jumps up and attempts to climb onto France's back. Irritated, France pushes him off. Britain tries again and this time France just sighs and gives in. After the squabble of getting Britain up and on his back, they continue on their search piggy-back style.

France decides that he enjoys this more then he hates it. Even if Britain is incredibly heavy and is singing random stanzas from phantom of the opera loudly into his ear, he still enjoys the close contact immensely. It also sent shivers down his back when Britain's hand brushes against his chest (daringly close to his nipple).

"Wee!" Britain snorts between laughing and singing. "Go faster!" this comment hit France in a somewhat weird way. It made him feel… not good.

"Ok!" France says sarcastically. But, instead of going faster, he bends backwards so that Britain would have to hold on tighter. This only ends up causing Britain to fall off him.

"Oww! That bloody hurt! You're stupid." Britain grabs France's arm again instead of going through the whole process of climbing up on France again.

Then all was silent. As they continued walking, France became more and more tired.

"Are you tired?" France asks Britain, hoping that he was so that he could take a rest.

"Shut up. I'm going to sleep!" Britain says, somehow already on the ground, eyes closed, laying in fetal-position.

"Well then." France curls up next to him, somehow falling asleep quickly despite the hard and pointy ground. Even though a Steve could be lurching around the corner and attack at any moment, France's thoughts blanked, leaving him completely vulnerable.


	4. Chapter 4

*Short chapter*

France woke with a start. He was still in the cave and still alive. He had fallen asleep with the flashlight in his hand, so he turned it on. Light returned to the darkness. He found Britain snuggled tightly against him. He shoved his arm, causing Britain to wake up.

"Huh?" Britain says, shooting up, much too fast for his own good. He was hit with a giant wave of nausea. He had a terrible head ache, his vision blurring, making him fall over. This sudden movement of up and down hurt his head even more as he almost threw up on himself. Britain felt as if he was in a hangover, which he often experienced if he had been hanging out with America or frog face.

"What happened?" Britain says, holding his head. "Did you cause this horrid headache?" he screams at the half-asleep Frenchman.

"It was that needle I gave you. The after effects made you utterly loopy." France laughs.

"Oh. But if I found out that you did anything to me during my state I'll bloody kill you!"

"More like what you did to me!" France yells, shaking his head, making hair fall in his face. Britain's face twitched and a slight blush covered his cheeks. France notices his expression and snickers.

Oh god, Britain thinks to himself. All he remembered was great pain, a shot then feeling better. But everything went downhill from there. Who knows what unspeakable things that pervert did to me while I was in my "loopy state" as he called it? Why did he have to be so… French? Just thinking about that frog sent a slithering shiver down his spine.

"W-what'd I do to you?" Britain stutters questioningly and looks away.

"Some things. I'm not going to tell you what you did though." France says winking. Britain's face flares up a dark red, his over active imagination kicking into gear.

Their conversation (if you could even call it one) was cut off by a loud grumble. Both nations turn and look around. They had yet to see another Steve and they were on their toes. France grabs his baseball bat that was lying on the ground while Britain pulls out his tiny dagger.

They heard the weird grumble again, not able to figure out where it was coming from. They get up quickly, weapons raised.

Then, it came out of nowhere. The Steve screeched loudly as it lunged at the two shaky nations. France, bat gripped tightly in his hand, was ready to swing. Britain shakily held up his pocket knife, ready to defend himself in any way possible with the (somewhat useless) object.

The approaching Steve suddenly stops and stares at Britain, its large beady eyes staring into him.

Britain at the moment had lost all of the breath in his chest. His face was paled to a white as he was forced to look into its intimidating eyes. He felt as if he would faint.

France glanced back and forth between the two. He was completely paralyzed. He tried to lift his arm to swing the baseball bat at the Steve but to no avail. His arm would not move. He tried to move his leg, but he couldn't move that either. He was completely and utterly stuck, forced to look at the unfolding of this event.

The monster continued to stare at Britain, his eyes glowing now. Britain was now drooling and twitching.

France couldn't make noise or move, so he was screaming Britain's (god awful) name in his mind. Of course, either of them could even utter the smallest sound.

So France stood and watched the entire scene. First the alien's eyes became so bright it was like a beam, shining on Britain, seeming to inspect him from his head of shaggy hair down to his large (manly, may I add) feet. Then Britain began to shake vigorously as the beam from the alien eyes became blinding. The Steve made low rumbling sounds, making France shiver.

Suddenly, Britain blasts backwards into the nearest wall by the giant explosion caused by the Steve. Britain lets out a loud yelp when his back comes in contact with the hard and pointy wall. When this happened, France's once frozen joints could move freely again, so he rushes at the Steve, but stops dead in his tracks.

The once before giant bulbous head was now covered in blond hair. The once before huge beady onyx eyes were now an emerald green human eyes. The once small claws containing only three fingers with overgrown nails were now a normal full grown man's hands.

France slowly walks over to Britain, who was still gasping due to all of his breath being knocked out of him. Britain got up shakily and stands next to France. The two close their eyes simultaneously, breathe in and out, and stare back at another Arthur Kirkland.


	5. Chapter 5

New Chapter! :) (Kind of short)

Britain and France gasp as the clone walk towards them. France flinches as clone Britain gets up close to him, his bat raised. The fake Britain puts up one hand defensively, the other scratching the back of his head.

"What are you doing? I was just going to introduce myself." The clone held out his hand, waiting for France to shake it, but he doesn't he reach for it.

"NO!" France yells backing away warily, putting up his bat up even higher. France wasn't going to touch him.

"What's wrong?" clone Britain asks, lunging at France's hand. France gasps as the clone's hand came in contact with his. He shakes France's hand, and then pulls it away snickering.

France stares down at his hand, it wasn't swelling and it was burning or anything. He breathes out, wiping some sweat of his forehead. "What are you?"

"Well I'm Arthur Kirkland of course! Silly France!" Clone Britain laughs and pats him on the back. He then looks over the other Britain. "Pleased to meet you also Britain."

Britain just stares back at his clone. He has never had one, nor that he had ever dreamed of having one. This whole arrangement was very awkward to him.

"Aren't you looking for someone?" the clone asks, changing the subject. The two gulp nervously.

"This doesn't concern you!" Britain grumbles, looking away.

"Why not? I'm trust-able!"

"I don't even believe trust-able is a bloody word." Britain says, frowning at his other self and his lack of good grammar. This fake couldn't possibly be a clone of him. He was much more refined then this bugger!

France nods. He grabs Britain's arm, wanting to continue their journey. So they ignore the clone, and they continue walking. But not alone this time, the stupid clone follows them.

"Guys, who are you looking for? Why won't you listen to me?" the clone asks, bickering on and on.

"Shut up!" Britain and France yell. They were not going to mention America! They were not stupid enough to believe this fake. But there was one good thing at least, his touch didn't hurt them.

But this one thing is what confused them. The last Steve they met hurt humans with contact to the skin, maybe this one kills in a different way?

"Ha ha!" a loud voice laughs. France and Britain both stop, causing the clone to stop also.

"America?" France asks. He moves his flashlight more to the left and sees nothing. "Did you hear that Britain?" he looks over at the real Britain that was still clutching his arm. This way he knew it was this was real Britain. If he let go of France's arm, he might get the two mixed up.

"That did sound like America, didn't it?" Britain says, looking around for America.

"Ha ha ha!" someone laughs again. France waves his flashlight around and he sees… America? But it couldn't be him!

"America?" Britain asks quietly, shaking at what he saw. He did see America, clear as day from the flashlight's light in front of him. This must be the real America if I can see him Britain thinks to himself.

"Imposter!" France yells, raising his bat. He didn't want to take any chances of being touched or Britain being touched again. He lunges at the America clone.

"What?" Britain asks.

"Wait! I'm not…" America starts to protest, but that was all he could mutter before France lunges at America.

He swings down and hits him hard on the head with his baseball bat, cracking his skull. He falls on the ground; the direct hit to the brain killed him instantly. Blood spills all over the dark area, splashing France in the face along with showering his entire body with little dots of crimson.

"What did he say before…?" France takes a deep breath, remembering what America had muttered. What if he… no, it can't be! He didn't just kill the real America, did he? Then he had an idea, maybe the clone Britain would know if it was a fake or not.

"France!" Britain curses as he ran to his once before sibling.

"Was that a human or a clone?" France asks quietly to the clone, his voice squeaking as he stared blankly at the blood all over him. Fake Britain walks and bends over the dead body.

"Nah. I would know. This was definitely a human. Was this the guy you were looking for?" Real Britain gets up and shakes his head while muttering. France face twitches as tears begin to roll down his stubbly face.

"So… that was the real America?" France chokes, barely able to stand up to the news that has just been revealed to him. He had just tried to protect himself and Britain, he hadn't thought it through. It all happened so quickly.

Britain was not taking the news well. He was pulling at his hair and frantically walking around in circles all the while cursing like a sailor. "You didn't even check or anything! I'm going to kill you. Damnit frog face! You killed my little…"Tears were streaming down his cheeks in quick rivers, his face pulled in tight like a raisin as he choked out his sentence. His was going insane.

France tried not to lose his sanity. He hadn't even stopped to even consider him being human or not. He had just killed him, not giving him any chance to prove if he was America or not.

"How do we even know if this fake is even telling the truth? What if this isn't America?" France yells shakily to the real Britain. Fake Britain laughs, shrugging.

"I'm telling the truth. And besides, when one of us dies, we turn into a blue liquid. So if that was your friend, I'm sorry to say that that was not a clone." Well that was it. France fell to his knees, barely breathing. America was dead. No way to bring him back. He was gone forever…

OH NO! :'O poor america, new chapter coming soon (i hope).


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